I'm not so sure about that. There is - sometimes even extensive - groundword to be done if you just happen to pick a setting out of the blue. Like, if I was to suddenly write a game for Forgotten Realms. It'd be an ordeal because I know next to nothing about it, nor am I really interested in it in the first place. As opposed to if I were to write a game for Fallout, of which I do know a little bit about on how to keep things fairly consistent with the first game.
I think this is a fair point for IPs that were
meant to be built upon and expanded. (After all, RPGs or other gaming universes were created with exactly that in mind!) What I'm referring to is adapting a book into a
film...or a
game...or vice versa.
The concept there is that the universe existed originally in a, shall we say, "refined form". People loved the experience of that universe in that form. So if I take that novel, and I go to make a film out of it, much of what inherently made it such a great
novel will need to change. Films are not novels. It's those foundational changes to the experience that create the challenge, automatically introducing some level of disconnect among the existing fan base. (Hence, for example, why so many video games based on movie licenses are just terrible.)
Point in case, I was outright addicted to Lord of the Rings growing up. I was beyond excited for the films...but when I saw them, I was very much disappointed. The energy felt all wrong. The dialogue felt rushed. The depth of the books was just missing in so many places. Tolkien's creeping, brooding horror was replaced with jump-scares and action scenes... I didn't like it. I thought the visualization was
excellent. I even recognized that it was a good
film. But because it was "Lord of the Rings", I felt it came nowhere close to what the novels had achieved, and it took me a while to truly appreciate the films for what they were. For me, Lord of the Rings is a
novel...not a
film.
Conversely, pretty much everyone I've ever met that watched the movies before reading the books absolutely loved them. A divided audience.
Equal consideration: The Usual Suspects. A film made to be a film, and a story told with powerful visualization upon its inception. I would challenge someone to adapt it into a novel...or a video game...in a way that would carry the same appeal to the existing audience. (Most likely, both would fall horribly flat. [I probably wouldn't even play the game. Cringe.]) Hence, the more refined and established something is in its original medium, the harder it becomes to re-imagine it successfully in a different medium.
With Cyberpunk, CDPR is taking a pre-existing "history" of a setting, and in order to not needing to "copy" it, they jump 57 years ahead in time, and thus they don't really need to worry about the original context too much, just that adapt their vision of Cyberpunk somewhat loosely to what was established in 2020 and mine the details from there. They have a lot of stuff that already exists that they can simply pick up and reference to in order to keep the familiarity. Kinda like how Bethesda did with Fallout (take the setting, advance time with a hard hand so you don't need to really consider the source material by other means than a list of names thrown for the sake of brand recognition for old-tyme fans... although, in Bethesda's case they completely missed the point of their source material, which I don't think CDPR did with CP, but nonetheless).
I can understand that, and I feel that such is exactly what many studios might do. However, I feel that CDPR advances from 2020 to 2077 for wholly valid reasons:
- As stated, we're shifting mediums. CRPGs are not PnP RPGs. While a direct adaptation of the mechanics on a 1:1 scale would have been technically possible, it would also intentionally set aside some of the most defining aspects of the video game medium. Namely, the ability to create virtual, moving worlds that the player can experience in real-time. By re-branding the concpet of Cyberpunk under a new "version", it sends a clear message to players that this will not be exactly what they've experienced in the past.
- It allows for them to try to qualify adjustments to things like gameplay mechanics and plot devices (especially with characters and lore). If I let a good 60 years pass, I can go ahead and fine-tune the gameworld to tell exactly the story I'm trying to tell without parts feeling rushed, forced, or ret-conned.
- It creates a buffer for suspension of disbelief. Much of the appeal of CP2020 was that it was set in the near future, not far future. So audiences could better anchor their experience in a familiar, more realistic world, rather than have to imagine a completely fictional existence from scratch. But, "2020" was chosen because the PnP game was orginally made in the 1980s. Well...now...it's actually 2020.
To achieve that same suspension of disbelief, we kind of need to enact the same process again, but basing it on the world today instead of the world as it was in 1980. A simple, but very powerful consideration, I think.
- It's ownership of the project (for better or for worse). Regardless of whether audiences love it, hate it, or find themselves somewhere in the middle, the distinction between CP2077 and CP2020 will be clear.